This programme contains some strong language
and scenes which some viewers may find disturbing from the start
I just killed Cassie! This is not a BLEEP joke. I stabbed her in the throat.
Dude, I just killed Cassie. Oh, my God. Oh, BLEEP!
I mean, it went by so fast.
Shut the BLEEP up, we've got to get our act straight. OK.
High school is a very hard time.
I had no idea who I was.
I had no idea where I fit in among my peers
and I thought that I was
a nobody at my high school.
And I wanted to be known and so...
I tried all these different identities.
And I couldn't, you know, find an identity that I could...
not be pushed out of, I guess.
So I got into Columbine.
'We saw these two kids. They were white and they...'
'Bombs are reported to have gone off.'
'Upwards of a dozen people were injured...'
Columbine kind of created a subculture
for disenfranchised, you know, kids,
who don't fit in anywhere.
I saw, at the time, they transcended their high school.
For the hour that they did what they did,
they were in the spotlight.
And that's what I wanted.
I wanted to be in the spotlight.
Actually, I was really actually going to do it.
INDISTINCT SPEECH
Hey, look, it's Cassie.
Hey, look, I don't... Hello, Cassie.
How are you today?
I'm getting you on tape, OK?
Say hi, please.
Hi. OK, see you.
When I first met Cassie Stoddart,
I think the first memory I have of her
is we were joking around in class
and she was smiling.
And that's the image I have in my mind, now.
I can't get that out of my mind.
And...
Man, it's hard to talk about. I...
But in the beginning,
she was just a nice person and she...
..you know...
Sorry.
I was attracted to her
and I thought she was a special person.
But she started going out with this other kid I knew in high school
and it kind of struck me hard.
And I was like, "OK, so I am a loser."
Wait!
Have you seen Torey? Nu-uh.
He's supposed to meet me here at 7:30 and it's 8:19.
He's an hour late.
You don't even care, do you?
Not really. LAUGHING: OK!
'I met Torey Adamcik in sophomore year.
'He started talking about the movie Scream,
'how it'd be cool to actually
'do a Scream-type crime.'
And I was like, "Oh, OK." He was like,
"Have you ever, you know, thought about that?"
"Not really.
"I mean, I've thought about other things like, you know,
"Columbine."
And he really wasn't into that.
And I was like,
"Well, I could either be alone
"or I could join his plan
"and be with him and, you know,
"not be alone."
Torey got here and it was about eight months
where we would come up every three weeks.
And we'd leave right after work on Friday,
drive up all night, come stay in the hotel.
We wouldn't miss a visit for anything.
Torey's a good kid and we enjoy the visits.
We have a good time
and Torey is the same person he was before he went in.
My mom still treats me like a mom
and she tells me to brush my teeth
as she's leaving the visiting!
And...
..tells me to go to bed early or whatever.
Just the typical stuff.
But I don't know, I think they're just worried about me.
You're just a really good kid.
Torey's a good kid.
And Torey is just a kind, kind, kind person.
And we're still a family.
He's still every bit as much a part of our family as before.
I remember the first article I read about my case.
Jeez, I mean, they made me sound like this brutal,
cold, psychopathic killer.
They were talking about Brian.
They were making you just like Brian.
They put us, like, as the same person. They lumped them together.
I only hung out with him for six weeks before this happened.
I think it's crazy how...
the...last week of me being on the street, being free...
really has affected the rest of my life.
If you were to watch that video and nothing had happened,
it would literally be a joke.
I don't know if it was my...
It was probably my fault and I should've seen it, but I just...
He did not seem capable of something like this.
And...he completely caught me off guard.
I was just in...
I don't know, I just couldn't believe it.
There should be no law against killing people.
I know it's a wrong thing, but...
Hell, you restrict somebody from it, they're going to want it more.
We've found our victim and sad as it may be, she's our friend.
But you know what, we all have to make sacrifices.
Our first victim is going to be Cassie.
She's going to be alone in a big, dark house
out in the middle of nowhere.
How perfect can you get? I mean, like, holy shit, dude.
I'm horny just thinking about it. Hell, yeah!
I don't know if either of us would've done it if we were alone.
We fed off each other, I guess.
It was a formula for disaster in the end, you know.
The time is 9:50.
September 22nd, 2006.
We know there's lots of doors. There's lots of places to hide.
I unlocked the back door, so that's all unlocked.
Now we've just got to wait.
I was actually the individual who snuck downstairs
and unlocked the basement door. And...
Huh! It's that one...choice,
where I was just kind of going along with it.
I really didn't stop and say, "Why am I doing this?"
I just did it. And...
That one thing that I did, er...
you know, started this whole thing.
And that's something that is hard to deal with. Um...
Because all I had to do was just not do that
and this may have never happened.
Cassie was there alone and, er... we both had masks on.
He walks up and he tells me, er...
"You do something scary that's going to freak her out."
And I'm, like, "OK." And so I grab a door and I open it and I slam it.
And, er...
Er...then...
..then we just kind of go to the room and the crime happens.
And we stab her.
I really don't...
have a lot of v...
er...vivid, er...memories of the actual incident.
Er...I have what they call a...
..er...flashbulb images of that.
She's...breathing hard and...
and her eyes are open.
And she's looking off someplace else.
And, er...
And then I...
I remember...
Er...so many, like...
She wasn't screaming, but in my head, I can hear that.
I know she screamed before it happened to her. And, er...
But in my memories I have,
she's...screaming.
When it did happen,
I was just too shocked to do anything
and I just ran from it and hid from it.
And I made a lot of mistakes.
But...
They were...
I don't know. I just think... I look at myself now and I'm 21
and I think how stupid I was at 16. And I just think...
..how I feel like
I'm paying for somebody else's mistakes at this point.
PLAYERS CALL TO EACH OTHER
When I was 13 years old,
I had a friend who was over.
He was hanging out in the house and my mom just went left on me.
He said, "Man, your mom's really a bitch.
"You should kill her."
And I mean, I didn't really take it seriously
but that's the first time the thought was planted in my head.
I started escaping into that daydream.
When things got really bad, I could say,
"Oh, yeah, one day they're going to be gone."
'In the early morning hours of December 17,
'15-year-old Jacob Ind slaughtered his mother and stepfather
'in their Woodland Park home with the help of a friend.'
'Jacob Ind reportedly tried to block out the screaming.'
'His appearance is that of a studious prep school student.
'But they say Jacob Ind was cold and cruel,
'that he recruited schoolmate Gabriel Adams to do the job.'
The kid was Looney Tunes.
And I just knew he would help,
so I asked for his help.
I just didn't want anything directly to do with it.
I just wanted the problem solved, things to be gone.
I didn't want to see it, I didn't want to hear it,
I wanted nothing to do with it.
I just wanted them gone and that's what I thought would happen.
I was sleeping when I heard the gunshots go off.
The .22 that I gave to Gabriel...
..really didn't have enough of a punch
to get the job done.
I went down the hall and saw the...
..their door was open to their bedroom.
It was like one o'clock in the morning. And...
I saw my stepdad, he was bleeding
and he said he'd been shot.
So I went back to my room and I got some pepper spray
and I came back and I sprayed 'em with the pepper spray,
my mom and stepdad.
And I went into their bathroom and closed the door.
And I figured,
"OK, maybe this can end.
"Maybe this can be over by now."
And it kept going and going and going.
I couldn't see anything but I heard that there was still ruckus.
I just wanted it to be over.
And so eventually... The .357 was in the closet,
in the bathroom,
and I grabbed that.
I loaded it with one bullet and I opened up the door
and I saw my stepdad there, slumped kind of against the wall,
and I shot him in the head.
And he fell over.
I turned around and went back, put another bullet
and my mom was there.
I shot at her
and I missed her.
And...
So I turned around, went back, put in another bullet and...
..went to shoot her again.
And she asked me why,
cos at that point it dawned on her what was going on.
And I told her cos she was cruel
and I shot her and she fell over.
I was just so...
..I guess disturbed by what I saw.
I grabbed my alarm clock,
went to the downstairs couch...
..and I just laid there.
And I couldn't think and I said,
"Man, I fucked up.
"I fucked up so bad."
Brian didn't want us to know how much pain he was in.
He kept that very, very separate
from our life with him
and the family's life with him.
He just didn't want us to know how much pain he was in.
That's the thing that kept us up at night the most,
for the longest amount of time, was trying to find...
trying to remember something that we missed.
We adopted Brian at birth.
When I think about our relationship
and how strong of a relationship we had with Brian and how...
..good of a relationship we had with Brian, it...
If you...
If you walked into our house back then...
..we were normal.
And why we didn't recognise
that we had such a problem...
..is horrific
and something we still cannot bear.
(I'm sorry.)
PHONE DIALS
RINGING
Hello? Hello, this call is subject to monitoring and recording.
'On November 6th 2002, Stacey and Gary Alflen were shot to death
'in what many say was the couple's dream home.
'In opening statements,
'prosecutors painted the killers as cold-blooded who "kill for fun,"
'maintaining that Josiah Ivy acted as the gunman.'
My brother is going to be 26 years old this year
and he will have spent ten years, a decade, in prison.
And it's a commitment to stay in somebody's life
with that circumstance.
The majority of families forget about them.
My parents visit him every week, too.
He's chosen to forgive
and he's so very grateful of my parents' relationship
and willingness to commit to visiting him,
to being interactive in his life.
And they have a great working relationship.
What do you mean they have a great working relationship?
What I mean by a great working relationship
is that he's not embittered
by anything that happened in our childhood.
You know, my parents spanked us when we were kids.
I don't know if these days that's considered abuse or not.
I didn't really look at it like that. But...
OK.
OK, so maybe, yeah,
I guess there's some stuff I really don't want to talk about.
At least not on camera, you know?
But...
I don't ever talk about it.
No.
As far as our childhood, it was...
..my parents regret a lot of it
and I think they would do things very differently now.
But you can't go back in the past.
And Josiah has forgiven my parents.
I know you used the word but did you guys grow up in a cult?
Yeah. When we were younger,
we definitely grew up in, like, a religious cult.
I will tell you, I don't think...
Like, I don't...
..like remembering our old home.
And at the end there,
you know,
right before Josiah was going to be sent away...
..you know, you walk in every room
and you have memories of things...
..that you'd rather not have.
Do you feel like I'm still being closed?
I think you're being as open as you're capable of being.
On the abuse stuff, yeah.
AMBER:
Just...
How old were you when your stepfather molested you?
Four.
Four... Do you remember it? ..five, six...
A little bit of it.
I mean, it's still something very easy to run away from
and not address and not confront.
The brain is a beautiful mechanism
in keeping stuff like that shut out.
How long did it go on for?
And did your mom know about it?
Did you ever tell anybody?
No, God, no. I never told anybody about it.
Can I ask what they did to you?
It's not really something I like talking about, at all.
He would have us get undressed...
..then tie us,
start to masturbate...
And after he was done,
he would get dressed...
..and say, "You're so BLEEPing dirty.
"Go and take a BLEEPing shower."
How do you treat a kid like a piece of shit?
You know, how do you do that to him?
I can't wrap my brain around that.
I mean...just the cruelty of it.
My mom used to give me enemas,
from when I was like four or five years old and stuff,
for reasons that didn't make any sense, you know?
To me, you think back and it's like, "Well, that's odd."
My stepdad was the source of terror.
He'd slam me up against the wall and tell me he'd crush my head in.
But that was more tolerable really,
to me,
than the cruelty and coldness of my mom.
That...
..filled me with more despair than anything else.
I could put up with getting beat up, that's nothing.
It hurts a little while and then it goes away.
But being berated for three hours at a time, four hours at a time,
being told how you're worthless, how you deserved what you got.
When I was a little kid,
and this is when I was getting molested
and probably the worst abuse...
..my mom told me never to tell the cops anything
cos if I ever called the cops,
they would come and give THEM a medal
because I was such a horrible, rotten kid
who deserved what they gave me.
And that stuck with me.
I spoke up as much as I could...
..with as weak as I was at the time,
I thought I was screaming from the mountaintop.
You know, objectively I was making tiny whimpers.
But I raised every red flag I could
and no-one paid attention.
I don't know, it put me in a very deep, dark place
where I didn't see an option.
I joined the Bloods at around the age of 14.
And as a Blood, you know,
it didn't really mean much of anything except selling crack...
..getting into some fights here and there with the Crips.
But eventually,
it became more serious.
As they started shooting at us more,
we started shooting at them more often.
And the first time that I ever shot a gun...
..I killed someone...
..a young man who was just walking home from work.
We said to that man that day, he was walking down the street
and we said, "Hey, what's up, Blood?"
He said, "I don't gang bang."
One of the people I was with jumped out of the car and said,
"I didn't ask you if you gang bang. I said, 'What's up, Blood?'"
And that young man took off running.
You know, we laughed. "Oh, look at him. He's running!"
That man got back in the car, we circled round,
we were going home. We were about to go home.
We weren't even thinking about this guy any more.
But then we saw him running to a house.
And when he got to that house, he knocked on that door
and three Crips
came out of that house.
And that's how the whole incident started.
That's when I made the decision,
"I'm going to, you know,
"shoot a gun at these guys' house, to scare them."
TOREY'S MOTHER: He was just a kid.
I mean, at 16 years old he was very easily influenced by his friends.
Torey's much more of a follower than a leader.
I mean... Yeah, who I was at that point
and who I am now,
it's like totally different people.
But who Torey was at that age, at 16, he still didn't commit this crime.
I mean... He's not saying that. He's not saying that.
I'm saying... He has changed.
I've made some mistakes and I learned from them.
But your mistakes weren't anything you were charged with.
They weren't the murder and the conspiracy. Yeah.
That was Brian.
It must be harder because you're innocent,
to be facing it.
Yeah, I guess.
It's not unusual that he...
you know, had that response
and his parents having that response.
I mean, it's a lot to deal with.
I mean, you have to accept the societal brand
that you are a convicted murderer.
And that is a very scary term
to have affixed to your name.
And that's...so it's really hard.
He wants to please his parents.
He wants to go home.
And his, kind of, behaviour is really common
and it's ordinary, I think.
Um...
I think what makes somebody
extraordinary
is when they face everything
and just kind of...
..accept it.
It's a hard thing to admit, you know?
I killed Cassie Stoddart.
I stabbed a 16-year-old girl to death.
That's pretty hard to say.
Life never gets so serious
until something like that happens, you know?
You know, I was a 17-year-old kid, I didn't take anything serious.
I hardly ever went to school.
I was always skipping class,
smoking weed, getting drunk.
That's all I ever did, you know?
Sell drugs.
I mean, life wasn't serious. Nothing was serious...
..until I took someone's life.
I mean, man, I wanted to get out of the gang right then and there.
You know?
BRIAN: When I first got here,
I tried to blame others.
And I met this individual in here
and he asked me what happened, my crime.
And I told him,
"Oh, you know, I'm not exactly sure what happened.
"You know, they s...they said I killed her.
"I'm not even sure if I did or not."
And he sat me down and he was like...
"Stop giving me a whole bunch of bullshit, OK?
"If you want my help,
"you have to completely be honest with me."
And he taught me about how...
..I owe a tremendous debt to Cassie Stoddart
and the only way that I can even start paying that
is to first of all
tell exactly what happened to her.
And...
And do not dishonour her
in anything that you do in your life.
And I've, you know, I've tried that.
It's very hard.
But I think that...
..that's all I can do.
And I have the obligation. I have to do that or I'm...
I'm...
..you know, a monster, I guess.
SEAN: When I got to prison,
I still got myself involved
in certain situations that were gang-related.
Still, even then, I felt like
it was like clothes that didn't fit, you know?
It just wasn't me.
And it only took one incident in prison
for me to say, you know,
"I'm living the same ridiculous way I was living
"before I got locked up, man,
"and I've got to stop this."
A friend of mine got into a fight with a Crip.
I went to retaliate.
After it was over with, I just lined all my friends up in the gym
and I told them,
"I'm out."
I'd been studying Islam, anyway, you know.
And I told them that I'm going to...
I'm going to take this way of life called Islam.
I'm going to take it serious.
And in order to take it serious,
I can't live two lives
because Allah didn't make two hearts in one breast.
So I chose to, you know,
live the life of the Muslim
and I left the life of a Blood behind me.
When I first went to solitary confinement, I was 17.
I was stuck in a cell and I couldn't run away from who I was.
And solitary, that's where all the worst of the worst are,
which at the time I thought the greatest convicts,
the tough guys, the real guys are.
But eventually, I had to decide
whether I wanted to be like those around me
or if I wanted to be the type of man I idealised in my brain.
And then I started looking at myself more in-depth
and said,
"I don't want to be who I am right now either.
"I don't like who I am right now."
So I started going layer by layer through who I was,
through how I thought,
what my outlooks on life were,
characteristics.
And if I didn't like it, I'd work on it,
work on that one thing till I got rid of it,
move to the next item.
And as I learned new lessons from my studies,
I'd learn to apply it into my life.
Forgiveness is one of them,
being a more forgiving person.
Um...
To try to have empathy with others
and to empathise with where they're coming from
and from their situation,
rather than solely from my own, judging from my own experience,
which is definitely a radical change in thinking
for most people!
I mean, it really changed how I looked at the world
and how I viewed human interactions and dealt with people.
And I... To me, it's one of the most important lessons I've learned
so far in prison.
BRIAN: I want to have a chance at a life.
I understand that, you know, Cassie can't
and I...I never ignore that.
You know, she is dead
and not anything is going to change that.
You know, I did something terrible.
And, you know,
there has to be consequences for that.
You know, everything we do in life, there are always consequences.
Oh, man, my consequences hurt my dad, my grandma,
my aunts,
even my friends and neighbours at school.
I had no concept that what I was
doing was going to hurt so many people.
I was completely clueless about it.
And that's...it's hard for me
to build up much sympathy for my mom and step-dad.
Though, I did originally, right off the bat.
But for all the innocent people that were hurt, like my brother
and like my family...
..it's almost unforgivable.
And it's a weight that I try to avoid, try to keep off my shoulders
for years and now that I've embraced it,
my driving factor is, I have to make it up to them.
They're the only thing in this world that I give a damn about any more.
And they're the reason I want to be the best person I can be
and make something of myself, as to make it up for them.
I don't know, I have a lot of ambitions.
I mean, if I were to get out...
I mean, I know exactly what I would do with my life
but being here that's all I have is just these...it feels like all
I have is just to sit here and rot
and there's no redeeming qualities, there's nothing I can do,
really, to alleviate any...
I don't know,
it's like just watching yourself decompose.
It's just horrible.
He's been in prison six years
and he's still on his first day,
you know.
He hasn't progressed at all and that is going to hurt him in the end.
You know, either psychologically,
if he has a conscience, or the courts.
They don't want to hear that you're completely innocent.
You know, he's not innocent.
He's not.
You know, I'm not innocent, I'm guilty and he's guilty
and that's where we all should start at.
20 years, I would say about 20 years after that incident,
I began to try to put a plan in motion to,
instead of feeling bad, feeling down,
feeling depressed about what
I did, to try to help people.
Starting with the people that I was around, you know.
I didn't have to reach out to the free world, there was
a bunch of gang bangers in prison.
You know, so I reached out to them.
Let them know, you know, hey, there is a better life to live for you.
There's a life that makes more sense.
I had a lot of good, positive mentors in prison
and they would always hand me a book, they would always say,
"What have you read today?"
"I haven't read anything today."
"Well, good, I have something for you here."
And I came up like that in prison, I grew up like that in prison.
I began to educate others
and I began to pass on those same things that those men taught me.
I started feeling like this is what I'm supposed to do.
And I wrote to Governor Ritter...
I didn't write to beg him to let me out of prison, I wrote him
and asked him, would it be OK with him
if I were put in a position where I could try to keep young
people from doing the same stupid thing that I did.
My last son was convicted of first degree murder
when he had just turned 17, brain just wasn't mature enough.
I thank God that I'm not judged permanently on how I acted
when I was 16.
We need to fairly assess mitigating
factors in some of these juvenile cases.
And we need to fairly assess who that person is today.
If I could say something?
All of this makes it sound as if we're making excuses.
A life was taken, we can not mitigate that
and we can not say, "Somehow, it's OK..."
Because whether this kid was 15 or they're 35, somebody was killed.
But I think we have to look beyond that
and that's where Sharletta comes in.
Sharletta Evans lost her three-year-old son, Casson,
to two juvenile lifers in a drive-by shooting.
Let Sharletta tell her story.
Hello, thank you, Mary Ellen, erm, 17 years ago my three-year-old son,
Casson Evans, was killed in a drive-by shooting.
21 bullets were fired, one bullet into the back window,
entered into his temple, shattered his brain stem.
So, the paramedics showed up, right when they came into the house
where we were standing, erm, Casson took his last breath in my arms.
I was overwhelmed with grief and sorrow.
Not knowing what to feel, not knowing to sit down, stand up,
go to sleep or stay up.
You're just consumed with sorrow.
I knew they were teenagers but I wanted justice.
Years are going by, one of the shooters,
his mother came to me after 11 years and asked me
would I beg her pardon, would I pardon her son
and her for these deeds that they'd done and I'm like,
"Wow! Are you kidding?"
You know, "No!" And I just walked away.
I began to argue with God, I began to cry and argue with God,
like, what is wrong with these people?!
They still don't get it!
I would not forgive anybody and I'm angry about this.
Right there, I recognised the presence of the Lord,
the spirit of God saying, "Would you forgive?"
My heart began to soften and have compassion, where I found myself
crying and praying and...
..literally, weeping for who they really were
and what has happened to them in their lives that caused this
act of violence, this emptiness within themselves.
This could actually be my very own son!
My surviving son was, at this time,
16 and 17 and...this could very well have been him.
So, I pretty much put myself
in the place of the offender
and the offender's family.
The guilt and the shame
is there for the offender's family.
My whole family...
..we won't ever be able to understand
what the victims' families go through
but our whole family...
..hurts.
Are we, as a society,
are we grown-up enough
and spiritual enough to say,
"OK, there is redemption and rehabilitation for some of them"?
And does this person deserve a second chance at life?
Has he shown remorse? What does that look like?
JOSIAH: I've made terrible decisions,
they're the worst I've ever made.
And I've had to live with those, ever since.
There are so many things that I should have done differently.
I'm so sorry about what happened to them.
I...
I don't know.
After the crime had happened,
I had horrific dreams, bad dreams,
where she was there.
And just graphic...
..gruesome dreams about her dying.
I would wake up in the night
and I would be scared,
like, terrified.
Now I have dreams of her at school
and everything's, you know, good.
She's...always smiling.
But I always know, in the dream,
that I killed her.
And those dreams are...
..are even worse.
And that's, like...
The only thing I can do
is hurt myself.
It takes away the...
..pain of...
..just knowing what I did.
Remorse equals pain,
your feeling of pain for what you've done to someone else.
And it's very easy to deny pain
and run away from pain.
And I did it for a long time.
And then I started becoming aware
of everyone else who was hurt...
..and feeling remorse for that.
And then running away from that pain, as soon as I realised it.
I said, "Whoa, no, no, I don't want to feel pain."
So, "No, it's not my fault that all those people are hurt.
"I'm going to still put it back on my parents.
"If they didn't do all that to me,
"then these people wouldn't have been hurt either."
And it took...
..probably close to a decade
before I could have the strength
to stop and say, "No...
"My fault."
What makes so much of it worse,
now, thinking back on my childhood,
is now that I'm a grown man, I've seen kids,
I've seen what the relationship's supposed to be with your parents.
Obviously they had to have been mentally ill.
You know, they were passing down garbage from their past,
you know, it's a cycle.
They had their own issues that led into it,
that lessened their culpability.
And when you start thinking about that, it's like,
"Wait a minute, they didn't deserve what happened to them
"that caused them to be that way."
And it starts feeding into itself and it's like,
"Wow, if I'm going to say I deserve another shot
"because I was screwed up and I was made to be who I am,
"then I have to have the same amount of empathy for them
"and what they went through, that made them into who they were."
SEAN: Now, on January 8th, 2011,
one of the sergeants in my cell house
called me into his office
and spun his computer around and said,
"Do you recognise this name?"
It was the governor's website.
I said, "Yeah, it's my name." He said, "What does it say?"
It says, "Sean Taylor..."
"..sentenced in 1990..."
"..to life, for first-degree murder,
"has had his sentence commuted...
"..to parole."
I started crying immediately.
I went back in the cell house and hugged all my friends.
And, you know, everybody...
everybody just was, you know, standing around crying...
..praising God.
Everything feels beautiful out here, man.
But I never try to lose focus.
I say, even though, you know, I've been blessed
and I'm enjoying my life out here,
there's still always the mission
to make sure that I can do whatever I can do...
..whatever I can do to stop some young person...
..from doing something like I did.
I have personally seen my dad cry
two times.
And the first time
was when I won a scholarship
for a science project I did.
And the other time
was when he was on the stand in court.
And...
..he was crying because I hurt him so much.
Your parents, they love you so much
and then you show them this
by destroying them.
I've got special parents.
CRYING: I just wish I could... go back in time.